


Overwriting a Painted Canvas

by Cyto_Zwanzyll



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Addiction, Aged-Up Character(s), Casual Sex, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Infatuation, Love at First Sight, Painting, Roses, Shameless Smut, Smoking, Smut, casual fic, city, garry really likes Ib, i wonder if anyone will actually read this lmao, perspective change, the pace changes a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 13:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19200034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyto_Zwanzyll/pseuds/Cyto_Zwanzyll
Summary: Ib has always lived her own secluded life, out in the middle of bloody nowhere. And then somehow, a complete stranger from the city can rile everything up for her.





	Overwriting a Painted Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!
> 
> Yes, I am aware that this is 2019 but goddamnit, Ib is still relevant okay?
> 
> This is a casual fic I'm writing so I'm not setting any update schedules: this fic is purely written for my own entertainment. I also have no idea how long this story might be but we'll see
> 
> Hope you can enjoy either way!

Ib stared at her palette of oil paints, perplexed. She distinctly remembered bringing her titanium white and even putting it on the palette. Yet it was gone. And with her being outside in the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by endless, far-stretching fields she could do nothing but swear loudly for being so utterly useless.

Her maroon eyes flickered from the palette to the small canvas in her lap. She tried to convince herself that that beautiful oak tree didn't need any lighter tones. Who was she kidding though? Instead of moping around for too long however, she simply whipped out her phone and quickly took a snapshot of the tree, getting up and packing her palette back into her bag, tying her brushes together with a cover and placing them in a side pocket while placing the canvas in the grass and picking it up once she herself had gotten to her feet. She'd better finish it at home. Good thing oil took so long to dry, even a twenty minute walk back home in the morning sun wouldn't dry the pain too much; she could finish it at home.

Ib lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of a small town called Rose Town in which practically everyone knew practically everyone. She worked four days of the week in the local flower shop, creating bouquets of different scents, colours and shapes. In the morning, she was in charge of opening the shop, putting all the flowers out, calculating the different prices for her bouquets and then flipping the closed sign to ‘open’ when 10 o’clock came around. During the opening hours she would help customers select the best of the best, give them any information about plants she could give or, if the shop was empty, she would sit behind the computer, browsing through the endless pages of botanical information or placing orders for more flowers. Though most flowers were grown locally, some more exotic types came from further up country.

Around noon her manager, Mrs Camilla, after which the shop was named, would come in to check on the shop and organise a couple of things here and there with orders and such. She and Ib would chat about the flowers in the shop at that time. At 2 pm Camilla then returned to her other flower shop in the next town, leaving Ib to close up at 3, after she had watered all the plants. The flower shop was in such a position that the plants weren't in direct sunlight by that time so it was safe to water them without the risk of them burning too much. After that, Ib would return home.

Of course, looking after flowers and reading through essays on the different species of ranunculus didn't quite provide enough money to pay her monthly rent. To ensure she was making enough to get by, Ib also worked two evening shifts at the local pub. Her Friday and Saturday nights were spent serving drinks to the local men and women of Rose town who, naturally, knew Ib as if she were their next-door neighbour, which she was, in a sense. Everyone was friendly and everyone knew everyone. Ib was therefore always at ease at the bar and could easily talk to whoever she was serving.

When she wasn't working, she was out and about the town. Either in the nearby fields or forest, painting some sort of landscape or plant. Occasionally, in the spring, she would watch a returning herd of deer and try to paint them without disturbing them. She mostly used oil paints although watercolours were her guilty pleasure when she could afford the time.

She walked along the road and pushed open the gate with her hips, making her way through the small front garden and into the cottage. She'd left the door unlocked and she pushed her way inside, kicking off her shoes and placing the painting on the dining table in the next room.

The cottage was very small, consisting of a kitchen, small dining room, even smaller living room and an upstairs with a bathroom and a bedroom. The previous owners had had a tv in the small downstairs living room as far as Ib knew, but she had been allowed to replace the horrid mustard yellow carpet with a fake varnished wooden floor on which she'd placed a cabinet. In the corner stood an ezel with a wooden stool she could sit on while painting. Her mp3 player lay on a small table top by the ezel.

Ib transferred her canvas from the dining room table to her ezel and set it down, taking a seat and getting out her phone to compare the canvas to the photo she'd captured. Pursing her lips, she eyed the details and then looked around for her tube of titanium white.

She found it on her cabinet and looked like it needed replacing. Desperately. Ib pretended not to notice however and tried to push out a little onto a finger while picking up a brush. Leaned to the canvas and after quickly glancing at her picture, added in those irksome details.

Her phone suddenly buzzed violently and she yelped, smearing white oil paint all over her skirt. She cursed and dropped her paintbrush on the floor as she fumbled for her phone. Without even checking who it was, Ib answered while picking up her brush.

“Ib speaking.”

“Good morning Ib.” It was Camilla. Ib glanced at her watch. It was 9.15 am. The late summer sun fooled those awake early into thinking that it was much later in the day.`Ib was one of those fools.

“How can I help you, Camilla?”

“I have an issue that arose suddenly, you wouldn't be able to do another shift at the shop today. I'm very sorry to let you know at such short notice. I can't pay you for the day I'm sorry, but I can give you some vouchers if you like.” Ib laughed slightly.

“It's alright Camilla, don't worry. I'll get changed right now and head out. Hope things work out for you.” Ib wasn't usually fussed about working more. This wasn't the first time Camilla had pulled a stunt like this but Ib didn’t particularly. Camilla had two very demanding sons who often required her attention.

As promised, Ib headed upstairs to change into something more suitable. She tied her hair up into a high ponytail, letting her bangs fall back over her forehead. For a moment, she stared at her reflection in the small bathroom mirror and bit her lip. She looked pale as usual, even though she spent so much time outside. Shaking her head, she turned and headed out, deciding to lock the door.

Ib bolted across the streets towards the shop. It was only a ten minute walk but Ib needed to set up the shop before it officially opened. She'd have to go back home to get changed for her evening shift at the bar. That was fine though, she had plenty of time between when her shift ended at 3 and when her evening shift started at 6. Maybe even time to finish that painting…

* * *

It was 13.08 when Ib closed the ordering page and turned to finish her piece of quiche she'd purchased at the bakery on the opposite end of the street. She sighed. Today wasn't very busy. She didn't usually get too many customers in a day but today was especially quiet; she had no idea why.

Just as she finished her last bite of quiche, she heard a loud noise and an expensive looking car pulled into the high street, just within Ib's view. Her maroon eyes followed it as it swivelled to a halt on the opposite side of the street just by the bakery. A tall, slender woman stepped out followed by a slightly smaller young lady. Both were extremely pretty, sunkissed, blue eyed and attractive women. Ib assumed that the smaller must be the taller woman's daughter. The taller woman had a few lines around her mouth and eyes. The younger looked around inquiringly, pursing her lips.

"Mummy, look.” The girl said loudly, pointing right at the flower shop in which Ib still sat, watching the two women.

“I want some roses.” The girl spoke imperiously.

The mother glanced at the flowers and sighed.

“Of course dear.” She spoke with little indignation of kindness as she handed her daughter a note.

“Go and buy yourself some pretty flowers then.”

The daughter took the money greedily, glancing at the flowers.

“When is big brother going to show up?” She demanded, even more fiercely than when she'd exclaimed she wanted flowers.

“He should be arriving this evening, dear. Get those flowers now, quickly. The sun is getting to me.” The mother said blatantly. Grinning, the younger woman dashed across the street without checking the roads first and hurried into the flower shop.

“Good afternoon.” Ib said, composing herself quickly.

“Hi, uhm. I want some roses. Yellow if you have any.” She said, looking around even though Ib could tell she wasn’t really interested.

“Of course, we just got some yellow in stock. I have pre-made bouquets just here.” Ib got up from behind the till and showed the girl. She followed eagerly and her eyes widened with delight as they gazed upon the rich bouquets of roses.

“Pretty.” She chanted as she gazed at them.

“I want them.”

Ib smiled and nodded and picked out one bouquet, making sure it was the nicest of the nicest and she took it back to the counter. She posed the sum of money the girl owed her and in return, she held up the note her mother had given her earlier.

“I'm Mary.” She said with a grin, taking the roses from Ib as Ib changed the note.

“Nice to meet you Mary. Are you on holiday with your parents?” Ib smiled politely as she held out Mary's change. Mary beamed and nodded.

“What's your name if I may ask.”

“Oh… It's Ib.”

“Cool, anyways. Gotta hurry” She grinned as she took the flowers and the change and ran out of the shop. Ib smiled slightly as she watched the girl. Even though they looked to be of a similar age, the girl called Mary seemed to still be 12 at heart. Ib found that strangely refreshing, even if she did act slightly spoiled. Besides, who was she to judge. Maybe they did things differently in the city.

* * *

After turning the lock in the shop front, Ib made her way home to just relax before her evening shift. She wasn't particularly tired but she yawned nonetheless. She'd work from 6 till 11 or 12 depending on how busy it was. Friday night sometimes met students from other nearby towns would come to watch sports games or meet up for some pool games or perhaps some unorthodox card games. Ib had once even spotted a group of students get together for a long game of Dungeons and Dragons which had lasted from the start of her shift until the very end of it. It only actually ended because the bar was closing. Whenever Ib wasn't serving, she'd watched the game with mild interest, even though she didn't feel any desire to join in. Perhaps they would come again tonight.

Ib was abruptly wrenched from her day dream by a loud roar of an engine of some sort. She looked up just in time to see a vast, shimmering and black motorcycle pass by on top of which sat a rider clad in leather biker outfit with a helmet with blacked visor so she couldn't see the rider's face or eyes. Pausing, she watched the rider pass in awe. He couldn't have been from anywhere near Rosetown. Perhaps he came from the city too…

After he had passed her, Ib watched the corner he turned for several long seconds. Something about his subtly form, slouched over the body of the motorbike intrigued her. No matter. She pressed on home to finally finish that painting.

She’d barely finished the painting and Ib had to get changed and hurry to the pub to start in time. Maybe she had taken a bit too much time invested on the details of that painting. She smiled slightly. At least it was finished and she could leave it to dry in peace now. Humming, she set back out into town, heading for the back of the pub and changing into her work clothes as she entered the changing room. Her co worker Carrie greeted her with a smile as she smoked a cigarette outside.

“Evening Ib.” She said, blowing out some tarry smoke.

“Hey Carrie, sorry I'm late.”

“It's cool, better get going though. It's busy.”

She wasn't wrong. The moment Ib took her place behind the bar she was bombarded with orders. Putting on her best smile, she got to work.

Working at the bar wasn't too difficult. She’d quickly learned how to serve beer the best way, how to mix cocktails the right way and how to entertain a customer while doing so. Once she got into her element, she was the star of the bar and everyone that didn't know her from the flower shop, knew her from the bar.

During her shift she saw many familiar faces who greeted her with equal enthusiasm. Both men and women alike chatted with her, locals and occasional visitors. All felt drawn in by her  open atmosphere as she engaged everyone in stories about their lives. She perhaps didn't talk much but she somehow always seemed to get people to talk by asking the right questions.

Most customers came between 6 and 8. After that, things became a lot quieter and bearable and Ib could talk more to those who decided to come for a late evening drink. Any time before 8 or sometimes even 9, it was impossible to talk to anyone because of the amount of people she had to serve. Ib was therefore relieved when around 10, things started to quieten a bit. People mostly talked amongst themselves while Ib cleaned some glasses behind the bar. Just as she placed a glass back in the overhead cabinet, the door to the bar opened and Ib looked up to watch a young man step in.

She instantly recognised him.

He wore a vaguely familiar black leather bikers suit and just took his helmet off as he stepped inside. It made sense he still had it on seeing as the summer skies were bright enough to let him see through the tinted visor. Inside the bar it was quite a bit darker so removing it was a good idea, Ib observed. 

When he removed his helmet, long, wavy, lilac locks fell along his sculpted face. Ib pursed her lips as she watched his complexion; she took in his strong jawline and his bright eyes, one of which fell out of sight as he readjusted his hair to cover the left side of his face. He spotted Ib and walked over calmly, taking a seat at the bar and placing his helmet down on a stool next to him.

“What can I get you?” Ib hummed, placing down her dish cloth and tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear while flashing him a smile. His gleaming eye found her face and stared straight into her maroon complexion. Ib felt slightly mesmerised by the intensity of his gaze and she stuttered slightly when his eyebrows creased.

“S-sorry?”

“Gin and Tonic.” He said, sliding her the money before she had time to even announce the price. She stood there for a second, looking from him down to his pale, long-fingered hand, time seeming to somehow slow. Nodding, Ib managed to pull herself together and make the relatively simple drink even though she felt like she was going to spill the gin or smash the glass when she set it down in front of him. As he lifted the glass to his lips, he flashed her a smile and she felt something in her stomach churn.

“Your attire doesn't strike me as the kind of thing a gin-and-tonic-drinker would wear.” Ib smiled slightly, leaning on the bar as she watched him.

“It's wrong to assume things you know.” He responded after a minute in which he finished the glass and placed it down before looking back at her with that piercing stare. Ib felt herself flush slightly and she straightened herself but realised he was only messing with her when she spotted the corners of his mouth were turned upwards. In response, she smiled slightly as well. He had cute dimples when he smiled.

“Where are you from?” Ib asked curiously, taking his glass when he swirled his finger and she refilled it with the same drink.

“The city." He hummed,swirling the drink as ib passed it to him.

"Amazing. I've never been…" Ib said with wonder as she watched him.

"You're not missing much honestly. too many crowds. the place is crawling with crime and idiots and all that. at least the air is clean here." The male sighed before smiling at Ib who returned it slightly.

"Still, I've only ever seen photos. all the street lights at night." The male laughed slightly.

"Not every city is like it is in Tokyo Drift." He chuckled. "But you're right, I suppose to someone who has never seen the city, it would probably be impressive." He glanced at her face before glancing down at the rest of her.

"I'm Garry." He hummed before taking a swig from his drink.

"Why don't you serve yourself a drink. it's on me." Ib smiled and nodded, obliging happily.

"I'm Ib." She said, pouring herself the same drink.

"Ib, you say?" He suddenly grinned as he held his glass to her and leaned in closer.

"To Ib then. a lovely young lady." He purred. his tone made Ib squirm slightly. she couldn't put her finger on what it made her feel, but it was a good kind of squirm. the kind that made her feel a little taller and a little more feminine. she grinned back and clinked her glass against his.

"To a mysterious young man from the city." She retorted with a grin. Garry laughed again and both of them drank at the same time. Ib placed her glass down first as she watched Garry finish his own drink first. He placed the glass down and eyed the clock. It was 10.30 and getting dark outside by this time and Garry got up.

"I should probably get going." He hummed, getting up and placing the rest of the money for his drink and Ib's in the counter.

"keep the change for yourself." He waved, zipping up his jacket. Ib nodded, her eyes looking down his body before darting back up to meet his. she felt her cheeks blush as she realised he'd been watching. he then smiled and walked out the door.

Suddenly, Ib collapsed against the bar just as Carrie joined her.

"What's up with you?"

"A man."

"oh, I see." Carrie smirked before rolling her eyes.

"Well I have to go now, can you cover for me?"

Ib nodded as Carrie waved and set off. the bar was nearly empty now and Ib cleaned the tables, mounted the chairs, did the last couple of dishes before yawning. she retired to the changing rooms and got changed into her sweats and tank top. The summer air meant that even at night, Ib didn't really need a coat. she headed outside. the kitchen staff and manager would lock up she so she just headed out the back.

When she turned the corner she saw him, leaning against his motorbike, smoking a cigarette while staring off into the distance. They met eyes at the same time and he smiled, lighting up his face in the yellow street light over his head.

"Finished?"

"Y-yes…" Ib said, feeling her cheeks flush as he chucked his cigarette in a small container on his bike.

"Do you want to go for a ride with me?" He said, jerking his head towards his bike.

"But… we don't really know each other." She replied.

"Your choice. if you say yes, we'll go wherever you want to go. And I won't do anything to harm you. promise." He smiled

"And if I say no, you will harm me?" Ib joked.

"Of course." He purred, grinning. they stood still for a moment and then laughed as Ib darted across the street and took the helmet he held out for her.

"What about your helmet?"

"I can't really see through it in the dark, so I'll go without." He hummed as he stirred his motorbike.

"Let's clear the village on foot so as to not wake the neighbours." He said pushing his bike forward, Ib following close beside him.

They'd passed the last house and a couple of metres on Garry got on the bike, motioning for Ib to do the same. She obeyed him.

"Hold on tight, baby doll." He crooned. Ib blushed and smiled, wrapping her thin arms around his waist and placing herself against him.

And they were off.

Ib watched the dark fields pass quickly while the bright night sky gleamed above her. To think she'd ended up on the back of a stranger's motorbike after the most normal of days. She was glad she'd finished the painting at least, even though she couldn't remember whether she screwed the lid on her titanium white properly. If not, she'd have to try and scrape together the money for a new tube if it had dried when she returned. To be honest, she didn't actually know when or even if she would return home tonight. After all, she'd gone off with a strange man she'd only just met, raving along the countryside at 60 miles per hour…

Ib didn't care for once. Something about the spontaneous and possibly rash decision felt liberating and she grinned broadly.

Even in the dark she recognized the landscapes. If she had a free day she would go out walking the entire day. Even then, soon they had passed the furthest point she'd ever reached on foot and Ib shuddered on the back of the bike. Her grip on Garry tightened even more and she closed her eyes again.

Only when she felt the speed of the bike decrease until they nearly stopped did Ib open her eyes. They'd stopped in the middle of nowhere by a grass field adorned by rose bushes as hedges. The field itself was covered in daisies and buttercups. Garry got of the bike first and helped Ib off. Ib took his helping hand and landed on the ground with both feet, smiling up at him once she had removed her helmet. He looked over the field, most likely finding the best location to jump into it. He put his bike on the pedestal and placed Ib's helmet on the seat. He wasn't scared of it being stolen, especially now it was dark.

He then took Ib's hand without warning and she shuddered instinctively, not expecting his warm grip. She felt her pulse quicken slightly against the strength of his long pallid fingers. They walked together, finding a fence which the two of them climbed over together, Garry waiting at the other side and lifting Ib off. Surprised, she giggled when he refused to put her down and carried her, bridal style, up the slight hill to the centre of the field. Placing her down in the grass, Garry zipped down his jacket and held it out for Ib who took it with a grateful smile, wrapping herself in it. A thick scent of smoke clung to the leather fabric, but Ib kind of liked it. Pulling it a little closer, Ib tucked herself in and gazed up, her eyes taking in the vast night sky. Garry took a seat beside her and glancing at him, Ib saw he wore a faded green top underneath. Curiously, she watched the lines of his arms, she shape, the tints, the muscles. Blushing slightly, Ib looked back at the sky.

“You didn't let me choose, you know.” She said quietly.

“I thought you might like this place.” Garry shrugged, having caught on to her words quickly.

“You're not wrong.” She puffed out her cheeks before flopping onto the grass entirely. A silence fell between them, but Ib didn't hate it. Something about it was comfortable and almost familiar. She watched the shimmering stars in the far distance.

“I have a question for you.” Garry asked, breaking their peaceful silence with his low tone.

“Shoot.” Ib responded, not looking at him, thinking that if she did, she'd not be able to tear her gaze from him anymore.

“Why did you agree. I wasn't going to actually harm you if you didn't you know. You had every right to call me a creep and tell me to fuck off.”

Ib considered his words for a moment. She didn't exactly know herself why she had done it but she didn't really care. Perhaps she just blindly trusted people or believed everyone had a kind heart, even though she knew that couldn't always be true. Yet something about Garry made her feel equally calm and excited. And that was all she could put her finger on - it was probably the best thing to say anyway. The truth.

“I've never been far from Rosetown. I grew up here with my parents who eventually moved away. I wanted to stay here so I did. And I've found things can get a little repetitive around her. Not that I mind by the way! But your abrupt offer made me realise how much I like spontaneity… Who knows… maybe it's just because I find you attractive.” Ib spoke, finally turning her head to face him when uttering her last words. She was surprised to be met by both his eyes as he lay on his side, facing her. He wasn't smiling; he was just watching her. It didn't make her uncomfortable, but it sparked something within her blood which suddenly started heating up.

“I think you've set a new record.” Garry suddenly smiled. In the moonlight, Ib could see his dimples as he did so and her stomach twisted into a tight knot.

“W-what do you mean?” She asked hesitantly.

“I've never been so smitten as I instantly am with you.” He said, his smile fading as a more serious expression replaced it.

Ib didn't know what to reply. There was no point in trying anyway because he had leaned over and kissed her. And the fact that she didn't stop it was because she wanted him close. Closer than he was right now. Ib didn't care if this was what they called infatuation, she just wanted every single inch of him. Right then. Right there.

Garry pulled back and surveyed Ib's expression with a slightly concerned face.

“I'm sorry Ib. I'm being selfish.” He ran a hand through her hair. When she didn't respond, his eyebrows creased with worry.

“Ib?”

Before she could even stop herself, she'd flung herself at him, pinning him down as she straddled his body, attacking his lips with her own hungrily. Their second kiss was an untamed beast compared with their innocent kiss previously kissed. This time, it was Garry who had not expected it. Yet, he too did not stop her as she kissed him even more deeply. As he inhaled through his nose, Ib took the chance and slid her tongue past his lips, the musky taste of smoke entering her mouth accompanied by something distantly sweet.

Lemon…

She pulled away and sat up, panting heavily while her dark eyes looked down at his illuminated face. Garry's eyes were wide for only a second before he shut them and sighed, covering his face with his long fingers. Ib frowned slightly and attempted to get off but found one of Garry's hands had slid down to her waist. It was stopping her from moving.

“Just give me a second, Ib.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to tell myself to hold back.”

“Why?” Ib grew slightly impatient. She already missed the taste of his smoky scent and that sweet citrus taste made her shudder at the very thought.

He looked at her and Ib paused to gaze at his intense gaze, feeling her skin grow hot at the intensity of it. She understood he was trying to tell her something without having to say any words but she wasn't going to let him get off easy.

“Why don’t you try me, will you?” As she said it, Garry looked back at her, fiercely, trying to warn her once again. When he realised that he could no longer turn back, he relaxed and grinned making Ib do so similarly, but rather sheepishly.

“Sorry, I'm not usually so bashful.” She admitted. Garry chuckled, he liked her. A lot...

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any interest in answering some questions about this chapter, then I'd really appreciate it!
> 
> How did the pacing feel?
> 
> How does the perspective feel?
> 
> Does the pacing tie in well with the perspective: Is the detail in the right places?
> 
> Feel free to answer these or not. I don't mind.
> 
> See ya-


End file.
